


you might be a bit bruised

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Declarations Of Love, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Future Fic, Hurt/Comfort, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Phil Coulson is kind of a sad person, Working Out My Feelings Through Fic, mentions of Coulson/Rosalind, that's okay because Daisy is pathetically in love with him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-14
Updated: 2015-11-14
Packaged: 2018-05-01 12:49:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5206487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson has been quiet, too quiet, for months. Daisy decides to take him out for a friend-date.</p><p>(Post- 3x07 angst & fluff)</p>
            </blockquote>





	you might be a bit bruised

"Boss," Joey calls out to her from the lab.

Daisy stops on her tracks and walks to him.

"You were right," he tells her.

"Often am," Daisy corrects. Joey blank-faces her. "I'm assuming you mean the residue we sent from the crime scene."

"There's the same as the ones from New Jersey."

"Uh."

She takes the file away from his hands. Joey waits for her opinion impatiently. They have been on this case for a couple of weeks, making tiny progress that was progress nonetheless. It's the first mission where she tries out Joey as her right hand to get him up to speed on the protocols.

"So you think this is it? An invisible man?" he asks Daisy.

"Or woman," she points out. Joey does his thing where he hugs his arms when he's not sure about something. "What is it?"

"Kind of daunting. An invisible enemy."

Daisy grins. She likes Joey's hesitation, his carefulness around missions, around his powers. It's a bit like having another Mack, which is nice. Everything is new to Joey right now and he is almost _obsessed_ with doing a good job and not letting anyone down. Daisy relates. It's just weird to be on this side of the deal – Joey is trying to _impress her_. That's just bizarre.

"Nothing we are not up to, right, Joey?" she says in her best railing-the-troops voice. Joey nods. She gestures towards the file. "Do you want to tell Coulson the news yourself?"

He falters, putting on an unusual expression of distaste. "I'd rather you do it."

Daisy smiles at him again.

"You're not still scared of him, are you?" she asks. She has never understood why new recruits seemed so intimidated by the Director, but maybe that's because she never was.

Joey chuckles awkwardly, like the idea is ridiculous. "No, no, nothing like that."

"Then what is it?" she asks.

"You promise you won't tell him?"

"Of course."

"The Director... he kind of bums me out."

Daisy frowns.

She wasn't expecting that answer.

 

+

 

Joey has a point, though.

As she watches Coulson go over the lab results Daisy can't stop thinking about how much somber he seems in the last few months, after the deal with the ATCU went up in flames and the whole Playground almost did too (not a metaphor, the steel frames of this very office still bear some of the scorch marks of a well-timed explosion). Daisy gets it, why he feels like that, and while the glass panels in the lab and his office are easy to replace the cracks in people are tricky to repair.

Coulson has always been quiet – too quiet – but lately it's more like complete silence. Not withdrawn or isolated. Just quiet. Daisy can feel it with her powers, the almost imperceptible vibrations. She doesn't want to think like that but it's like something is _missing_.

"So what do you think?" she asks, wanting to fill that silence.

"I'm beginning to think your theory is correct. It's an invisible man," Coulson says, tilting his head. "Or _woman_."

Daisy steps closer, searching his eyes.

"Exciting, uh?"

"Yeah," he agrees, a hint of spark there, gone almost immediately. "Though dangerous."

"We can handle dangerous."

"I know you can," he tells her and it's appreciative and sweet but somehow she still feels it, the missing thing at the center of it. "Is there something else?" he asks when he catches her staring.

He doesn't say it in any curt or sharp way. That's the thing. He hasn't become cold or dimissive with her, just... Daisy is trying to find a better word than _sad_.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

Coulson gives her a confused expression.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been quiet," she points out.

"I've been busy."

"We've all been busy. I know you, it's not that."

He's not lying, that's the thing. He's been busy, way too much, he's been killing himself working. She can tell by the tiredness in his eyes. She'd tell him to go see someone, a professional, but SHIELD's therapist, for very understandable reasons, is avoiding the Playground for a while. Daisy wonders if it's time to reiterate her yoga suggestion.

"The President is drawing up anti-gifted legislation," Coulson is saying. "You have your team up and running but you can't relax. Is this the time to be talking about whether I'm _quiet_ or not?"

"You are," she insists, crossing her arms. "And we all know why."

Well, he is paying her to be straight with him. That was always the deal with her and Coulson.

He fidgets with the file she gave him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You've been doing this for months. At first I thought the best move was giving you some space, you're normally very good at getting back up when you take a hit. We both are."

"It wasn't just a hit," he says quietly.

"I know," she says. "I know you feel responsible for what happened with the ATCU."

"It was embarrassing," he says, hissing the words, dropping the file on his desk a bit violently, with a loud thud – louder than Coulson must have expected because he recoils, shocked. He turns to Daisy. "Sorry. I'm sorry. I'm not that person."

"No," she agrees.

Embarrassment, the idea that he disappointed so many because of a personal miscalculation, she knew that's what haunting him to this day. He's not a hard person to read, Daisy has always thought this.

"I just want to focus on the challenges we have to face now," he tells her. "On being a good director, taking care of you guys."

"And we appreciate that, we do," Daisy says, coming closer again.

Something in Coulson's face softens, he looks more like himself.

"I don't want to let you down," he says, the _again_ implied and almost audible. And Daisy knows the second person here is plural, but it feels more personal than just that.

She touches his back for a moment. Coulson is not big on physical contact lately (he's not been big on it since he lost his hand – except for the obvious exception, of course). He seems to be okay with her touch right now, so she gets bolder.

"Let me take you out on a date," she says. Coulson narrows his eyes. "A _friend_ date," Daisy clarifies, flushed. "Get out of here a bit, grab something to eat."

"Daisy, I'm fine."

"Okay, you're fine. I get it. Then do it for me."

That seems to get through to him.

"I guess we could spare a couple of hours tonight," he finally says.

The agreement is begrudlingly given but that's not going to stop Daisy.

"Great. Be in the garage at eight."

 

+

 

"I thought you were going to dress up a bit, or down," she says. "I know it's just a _friend_ date, but still a date."

"This is fine," he replies.

And Daisy tries her disappointment not to show on her face, and maybe it does a bit and maybe Coulson concedes because he loosens his tie slightly.

She misses his casual clothes, now that he has gone back to suits full-time. It wasn't a particularly _subtle_ move on his part but then again in those days right-after they were too busy staying alive to notice changes in wardrobe. Notice the way he is all close shaves and short, perfect haircuts these days, and there's not a wrinkle on his clothes. It almost reminds her of when they first met years ago.

And it's not like she has dressed up too much – she just threw on some new-ish jeans and a white shirt, but she took her time getting ready, getting that gold smoky eye effect just right. It was fun, cleaning up a bit, having this to look forward to.

Coulson just looks at the whole thing like he doesn't have much to look forward to, in general.

"We're taking Lola," she announces.

She drives and Coulson just lets her, sitting in silence for most of the journey.

It used to be easy, silence with Coulson. Not anymore.

She drives him to a pop-up restaurant outside a mall, a parking lot made up in the fashion of many decades ago, after one of those famous drive-in restaurants where you could eat in your car. A bit lame and gimmicky for her taste, one of those places for either hipsters or nostalgics but it amused her to think about her and Coulson getting a meal here.

"It's a replica from the ones they used to have all over the country in the 1950s. I thought you might like it," she says.

He only half-takes in the scenery.

"Yes, thank you, Daisy, it's really cool."

Lola fits right in.

"We connect this to the car and we can have music, too," she says, showing him the record selection. Basic, classic stuff, Elvis, Little Richard, The Ronettes, a bit all over the place. She chooses a random number, seeing how Coulson is still not in the spirit of it.

A girl in rollerskates and an old-fashioned uniform takes their order. Chocolate milkshake and shoestring fries for Daisy, just a strawberry milkshake for Coulson.

"I thought you could use some loosening up," she says, raising an eyebrow at her.

Coulson smiles at her while he carefully sucks on the straw. It's kind of cute and god he's trying so hard, which makes it even worse, of course.

"We have had a rough go of it," he comments, impersonally, like he had nothing to do with it. "This is probably a good idea."

Technically, again, he's not wrong, they have been stressed, overswamped, Daisy has barely had time to catch her breath. The team is new, they are making mistakes, but they are _surviving_. Coulson has championed her efforts in a way that makes her wonder if it's not some sort of penance for not having listened to her when the deal with the ATCU was in place.

The ATCU.

She keeps going back to it.

To Price.

She knows that's the answer, the reason why.

"You need to get out of this vibe, Coulson," she says because she can't wait any longer. She remembers Joey telling her seeing Coulson bummed him out.

"What vibe?" he asks, avoiding her glance, stirring his milkshake like it's something to do, obviously going back on what he said in his office earlier, backtracking because he left the guard down. She knows the feeling.

"Yes, it was a mistake to trust ATCU, yes you put your faith in the wrong people and you got hurt. We survived, it's time to let the world in again."

"Daisy, I appreciate your concern but I'm–"

" _Fine_?" she finishes. "Yes, you've been saying that word for four months. There's not been an instance where I've believed you."

He doesn't reply.

"God, you're so stubborn," she says, chuckling a bit because she always thought she was the stubborn one in the relationship. Maybe they really are too much alike after all.

She doesn't mean to open Pandora's Box with this but damnit, maybe it's time they talked.

They haven't really talked about it, just skirted over the issue. Licking their wounds was more important than dwelling on it. Rebuilding was more important than assigning blame. Daisy puts her plate of fries away. She is willing to let her fries get cold for this, Coulson should know what a gesture that is.

She looks at him with understanding, but with a growing impatience.

"It could have happened to anyone, Phil."

"But it happened to me," he says, very quietly.

"It happened to me too, if you remember," she points out.

Coulson gives her a sympathetic look, then shakes his head. "It's not the same."

"Why?"

"Ward fooled us all, not just you," he explains. Daisy realizes that it sounds a bit rehearsed, like he has been having this conversation in his head for four months. "In this case you adviced me against it, you warned me, you asked me not to."

Daisy looks ahead, feeling weirdly guilty about it. In the car in front of them there's a couple in full rockabilly gear, tonight obviously a special occasion for them.

"I'm sorry." she says.

And she is.

Whatever other lingering feelings of disappointment and anger about the whole things she still has... she's sorry for him.

"You did nothing wrong," Coulson tells her. "In fact you did everything right. You were the one who... I should have just..."

He trails off and the silence takes them for a couple of minutes.

The song has ended and Daisy is surprised when Coulson reaches out to punch another number into the machine, maybe to fill the quiet, she doesn't know. Something sung by a girl group comes on, something Daisy vaguely recognizes from a movie. It's apparently upbeat, but it sounds bittersweet.

"You cared about her?" Daisy asks, the most direct question she has managed since the whole thing went down. Also because for some reason she has been fearing the answer.

"In a way. But it wasn't really about that. It was about – I saw potential for _connection_ ," he says and Daisy nods knowingly. "And that hadn't happened to me in a long, long time, not since... "

He takes a long breath. Daisy knows what he's going to say, she can fill in the gaps. And she does.

" _Audrey_? Yeah, I get it, and it sucks, but you can't just close shop and–"

"You," he says.

"What?"

"I was going to say that it hadn't happened to me since _you_."

She reflects on the words for a heartbeat and then immediately – _inmediately_ – she kisses him, reaching over to his seat. As soon as their mouths connect Coulson kisses back, which is a relief, she's not going to lie here.

He tastes like that silly strawberry milkshake of his and Daisy can swear this is the most _right_ she's ever felt and it's bittersweet – like the song still playing in the background – even though she doesn't know why. She grabs him by the collar, opening her mouth under his.

He is the one to break the kiss.

Eventually.

Very eventually, and that makes Daisy happy.

"That's not really a good idea," he says nonetheless, the words heavy, sinking.

She snorts a bit. "Because you have never given into a bad idea before."

It's a low blow, she knows, but it's what he needs, and she's not unkind about it. She gives it with another kiss. This time Coulson freezes up a bit, but he lets Daisy kiss him for a while, his hand raised like he wants to touch her hair.

He grabs her shoulder and pushes her away softly instead.

"I'm not sure we – that I..."

"I want you, okay?" She says, hoping it translates well into a voice that learned how to be mindful of distances between them a long time ago. A voice too used to boundaries. She wants to be free and unguarded with him. She really hopes she hasn't forgotten how.

Coulson fumbles for words.

"It's too late," he says, shaking his head.

Oh god he really believes that, doesn't he?

Daisy is _appalled_.

These last four months easily explained.

"I don't agree," she says and that's why he is paying her in the first place, to be the one who disagrees.

"But Daisy, I'm–"

"Too damaged? Too closed off? Too unlucky in love? Well, join the club. No, really, join the club."

She kisses him again, this time pressing a smile against his mouth.

Coulson melts under that.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he keeps saying.

She looks at him, amused, touched by his display of vulnerability. "What are you sorry for this time?"

"I need you," he says, wrapping his hand around her fingertips and pressing them to his mouth. There's something almost reverent about the gesture and his eyes water a bit under the weight of months of exhaustion and detachment. He looks overwhelmed and _relieved_. Almost three years easily explained now.

"Can you take me home?" he asks. " _Please_."

Daisy nods and gives him one last kiss, long and slow, before starting Lola's engine.

 

+

 

He takes out his jacket but Daisy is the one who pulls the tie loose.

 _Home_ , in this case, means her quarters.

Home are her fingers gently pulling at his tie like it's the most important part of the ritual, the one that will leave him feeling the most naked.

When she starts undoing the top buttons of his shirt Coulson wraps his hands around her fingers, stopping her. The feeling of the leather of his glove is odd against such an intimate gesture. They are bruised all over, both of them, Daisy realizes, understand why Coulson felt like it was too late for him.

"Daisy?"

"What?"

"I want this, I do," he says. "But the last time for me..."

"I know."

She knows. Intimate betrayal has a way of messing with your head like nothing else. And going to bed with someone for the wrong reasons, well, that too. Daisy has had her share of heartbreak in the last few months, she feels the fear of opening up as well. But it's okay, they can do it together.

"You're safe with me."

He himself finishes with the shirt, parting it to reveal his scar.

Daisy places her hands on his shoulder, laying hot kisses across his throat, trying to make him forget for a moment. He makes a struggled noise and Daisy feels it again, that melting-moment like she felt it in Lola. He moves for her as she touches him, such a beautiful man.

"Daisy," Coulson whispers, in a broken, soft voice.

"I'm here."

"I love you," Coulson says, stepping back like something has hit him.

"You don't have to say it like it's a bad thing," she says with a low chuckle.

"No, no," Coulson tells her, grabbing her face, like he can read all her fears in her joke. " _Never_."

He kisses her, maneuvering both of them back towards the bed.

Daisy is stil tingling with the pride of those words – he said he loved her. No more car metaphors, no more meaningful silences. Just the words. Daisy always told her boyfriends she didn't need them – words amount to very little. Perhaps she hadn't been hearing them right. Or from the right people. The words mattered to her. So much that she is about to ask Coulson to say them again, just to check.

He pins her under him, pulling her top over her head. There's finally passion in his gestures, resolution, energy. All that has been missing suddenly here, pressed up against her body. He pins her against the mattress, kisses her hard. He helps her out of the rest of her clothes, kisses her feather-light between her breasts, moving slowly over her chest, sucking her nipple into his mouth. Daisy feels he wants to please her, make her feel wanted. Does he feel guilty about pushing her away for so long? He must feel guilty about so many things. She pulls at his hair until he meets her eyes again, because she needs to see his face.

He touches her hand, tickling the inside of her palm.

With his other hand – the feel of leather over her naked she's now getting used to, getting to enjoy – he grabs her leg and wraps it over his hip. She can feel his erection pressed against her and she bites her cheek, her stomach flipping at the idea of what they're about to do.

Then she notices his eyes again.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asks, unable to stop smiling because he's _looking at her like that_.

"Because you have no idea how long you've been on my mind and my heart," he says, all conviction and yep, corny lines are Coulson's thing, as she always suspected. She smiles fondly. He touches his fingertips to her mouth. "I just never thought..."

Daisy wants to tell him how long it's been the case for her, even if she didn't extacly knew it; she wants to tell him how easily Phil Coulson got under her skin since the very first day, when she was supposed to play him to get what she wanted, how he stayed there, like a song one hums without realizing, ever since.

She lies him on his back, working his pants and underwear down his hips, and she settles her own weight against his thighs for a moment as she reaches out to the drawer for condoms. She has the bittersweet realization that they have been both looking in the wrong places all this time. They've wasted so much precious time.

"Daisy?" he asks when she gets lost in thought.

She smiles because he never quite learned to say her name like everything else – emotionless and somber and gray. Her name was the one crack.

She rolls the condom over his cock and holds on to his hips as she sinks onto him and in a moment is done and Daisy think _connection_. Maybe they didn't waste it, maybe they just took a detour.

Daisy moves, Coulson's hand hot over her spine.

He mistakes her name for the old one, just once, and Daisy forgives him; she forgives everything between them, finally, and it's easy because she was more heartbroken for him than she was angry. She takes Coulson's wrists in her hands and pins his arms above his head, riding him slowly.

He is quiet when he comes, and it's a bit too soon – Daisy disappointed to let go of the moment of connection already, then guessing it would always feel too soon. She rolls off him and onto her back, trying to catch her breath while he disappears into the bathroom a moment. Daisy dreams of hours and hours of cuddling but when he comes back to bed Coulson lies on his side, close to her but not touching her again, like he is waiting for something. 

"Hey, come on, come here," she says, impatient, because she is impatient. 

She watches his eyes lit up and this time the spark stays there.

He gives her little, hesitant touches – he caresses her arm, her stomach – like he's not sure he's allowed to afterwards. Daisy catches her breath and turns her head towards him.

Coulson makes a little apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry that wasn't... better?"

"It's okay," she says, closing her eyes for a moment and smirking at the whole thing because if she thinks about it... _wow_. "Phil Coulson loves me. We'll figure out the details later," she tells him.

He smiles shyly. After months of his blank, gray face, this tiny change is almost shocking.

"I'd prefer sooner rather than later," he says, running his hand up the inside of her thigh.

His fingers tickle her for a moment and then it feels so good Daisy has to laugh, kissing Coulson with an open mouth.

"Yeah your idea is much better, definitely for sure."

 

+

 

She finds him looking out of the window of his office.

Even though he's supposed to be working. There's a lot of work, he shouldn't be slacking off.

She can see his face on the reflection on the glass.

"What? No tie today?" she aks.

Coulson smiles as he turns around, apparently so deep in thought that her appearance surprised him.

"No time," he replies, touching the collar of his shirt instinctively. "For some reason I got a _late start_ this morning."

Daisy smirks smugly and lets him wrap on arm around her waist and pull her for a kiss.

He kisses back.

It feels different than last night. It feels like Coulson is kissing her for all the times he didn't kiss her, all the times he didn't reach for her and wanted to. Like he is trying to make amends. Daisy is okay with that.

She grabs the sides of his jacket, wondering if not wearing a tie today is entirely for her benefit, like he's trying to show her something, to tell her that he wants to change for her. 

She pulls away from the kiss, flattening the palms of her hands against his chest.

"I don't care," she tells Coulson, because she feels like it needs to be said. "You can keep wearing dark suits all the time. I like them too."

What she means to say is that it doesn't matter if he can't get out of this vibe; sad Phil, she loves him too.

"You think you can be done with the team training early today?" he asks, wrapping his arm easily around her back.

"I'm the boss, I can be done whenever I want."

"Tyrant," he says, leaning to kiss the spot under her left ear.

Daisy chuckles. "Why do you ask?"

"I was thinking about driving into town this afternoon. I wanted to buy the record, the one that was playing..."

He looks away, a bit embarrassed. The good kind of embarrassment.

"Oh," she says. "You could just download it, you know?"

"I know. But I know this shop downtown, and I want to buy it," he tells her. She gets it. This is Coulson, after all. "Do you want to come with me?"

"Like a friend-date?"

It's just a joke, of course, she's not that insecure, but Coulson takes it seriously.

He shakes his head. "No. Like a date-date."

His idea is much better.


End file.
